Chapter 30: All-Consuming Devotion to God
The first stage of meditation is a concentration of the mind on the physical concept of the object with its external and internal relations. The second stage is the concentration of the mind on the very same object, freed from these external and internal relations. The third stage of meditation is the concentration on the same object as constituted of certain essences, rather than on its external form or shape in terms of space and time. The fourth stage of meditation is the meditation on the very same essence of the object as independent of space and time relations. The fifth stage of meditation is the fixing of the consciousness on the joy that automatically follows from the freedom realised as a consequence of the abolition of space-time relations. In this stage, the subject and the object come together automatically when there is no space and time and there is no distinction between subject and object.
The sixth stage of meditation is the resting of the consciousness in itself—pure self-awareness of a universal character, where even joy is not experienced as a content or an attribute of consciousness. Joy becomes consciousness and consciousness becomes joy, because Self-consciousness is joy. The sixth stage of meditation is a very indescribable and blissful state, and it represents a veritable freedom of the soul from mortality. The seventh stage in meditation is the realisation or the experience of the Supreme Being. As a matter of fact, it is not a state, it is the ultimate goal reached in a fusion of eternity and infinity. These are the seven stages of meditation in which certain transformations of the mind are involved, and which take place simultaneously with these seven processes of meditation.
The first stage is that particular transformation or modification of the mind, wherein it keeps a check on the undesirable modifications. There are two types of modifications: the desirable and the undesirable. In this case, the desirable modification of the mind is that which is conducive to the concentration of the mind on the ideal or the chosen object of meditation. The undesirable modification is that which pulls the mind towards sense objects. There is a struggle between the desirable modifications and the undesirable modifications, and one grapples with the other. The desirable one is the stronger one, and it tries to keep the undesirable one in check. This process of struggle going on between the higher and the lower modifications of the mind is one transformation, and is the first one mentioned in the Sutras of Patanjali. The first transformation of the mind in meditation is that which involves an apparent struggle between the higher and the lower mind, wherein the higher mind is trying to keep the lower in check for the purpose of bringing about concentration of the mind.
The second transformation occurs in the context of an oscillation of the mind between consciousness of multitudinous- ness and consciousness of single-mindedness. In this stage, we are sometimes conscious of the objects outside, and at other times our minds are concentrated on the chosen ideal. For a few seconds the mind will be concentrated, but for another few seconds it will be jumping to other objects. That state of mind, where there is a vacillation between external consciousness of variety and the consciousness of concentratedness, is the second stage of mental modification in meditation. Again, this stage involves an oscillation between the consciousness of multiplicity and the consciousness of concentratedness.
The third stage of meditation is where the two processes shake hands with each other, as it were, and become friends. In the first two transformations there was a struggle with one trying to overcome the other. This would mean to say that one is different from the other, one does not like the other, and one wants the other to be gone. The objective consciousness and the concentrative consciousness were apparently in disagreement with each other in the first two kinds of transformations. In the third stage they become as one, like water flowing from one reservoir to another reservoir with both reservoirs situated on equal levels. The mental modifications of one kind flow into the mental modifications of another kind. There is apparently no distinction between external consciousness and internal consciousness. The distinctions of the necessary and the unnecessary, and the desirable and the undesirable cease in the third transformation of the mind. Whether we are objectively conscious or subjectively conscious, it makes no difference in this condition, because the object and the subject cease anymore to have a varying character. As I mentioned before, here we will not know whether the subject is meditating or the object is meditating, because the spatial distinction is abolished.
The Higher Stages of Meditation
The fourth transformation of the mind in meditation is a check exercised automatically over the sense activities. The senses had to be withdrawn in pratyahara with some sort of effort, and we found it a kind of duty on our part to control the senses. Here in the fourth transformation of the mind there is instead a spontaneous check exercised on the senses, and they will not work in the same way anymore. They will be as if paralysed and stupefied with no more strength to move towards the objects. To give an example, there are certain circus masters who keep a stick in their hands in case the lions or tigers get out of control. If the animals show any tendency to get out of control, the stick will be taken and touched to the animals' bodies, and they then respond immediately. When they are touched by the stick, the animals are receiving a sort of warning that punishment may follow. Likewise, the senses receive a kind of paralysing check on account of the expansion of consciousness towards the infinite. The senses will not work wherever there is a tendency to an infinitude of experience. They are like a snake who is under the control of the snake charmer, and the snake cannot do anything as long as it is under the control of the snake charmer. We need not exert to control the senses here, because the senses cannot work. They are almost dead and gone, because the energy that was once moving externally towards objects has now been subdued, withdrawn, sublimated and absorbed into the mind. This is like the prodigal son returning home. The father and son embrace each other and are friends once again, and there is such a joy in the house. The senses are prodigal sons. They were running about hither and thither squandering energy, but now that they have realised their fault and come back, they are received with great satisfaction. This is spontaneous pratyahara that is taking place, which is control over the senses that is not exercised with effort, but through realisation. This is the fourth transformation of the mind that takes place.
The fifth transformation of the mind that takes place is also a consequence that follows externally in the wake of this control of the senses. When we are a master of our senses, we are also a master of our destiny, and the environment around us also comes under our control to some extent. This automatic transformation that we observe in our external environment is to be taken as a consequence of the mastery that we are exercising over our own selves. As it is said, self-mastery is world mastery. When we have mastered ourselves, we have also mastered the world, because the world is inseparable from our own constitutional make-up. We are not an isolated entity in the world. We are in every nerve and every pore and every cell of our personalities connected with every bit of creation outside. We cannot deal with ourselves without dealing with things outside. One thing implies the other. Self-control, which is achieved to such an extent here, also means—even without our own knowing it—a control exercised over external environments. Then comes the higher transformations of the mind, where the mind can work independently of the senses. The mind does not need the senses to work anymore, as it can merely think, and things will take place. There is no need of seeing, hearing or even speaking.
This is a very advanced stage of yoga. People in this condition are rare in the world. They have merely to think something, and it will happen. There is no need of saying anything, there is no need of their doing anything, and there is no need of their senses working. They need not see, they need not hear, and they need not do anything. The mind has received such power that their very thought is action. Their thought is more compelling and more powerful than sensory activity. The highest transformation of the mind is where it merges into the Spirit. The mind no more exists as a mind when there is no thinking faculty. Mind becomes consciousness; consciousness is mind. To be is to be conscious, and to be conscious is to think, and vice versa. Our being is consciousness and our consciousness is thinking—thought thinking itself, as Aristotle told us. When thought thinks of an object, it is manifest as man, but thought thinking itself is God. Here is the last transformation of the mind: thought begins to contemplate itself, and it is God thinking Himself. We have become identified with God here. The last experience in meditation is identical with the last transformation of the mind. These again are not mere subjects for analysis and study, but they are matters of experience.
Devotion to the Beloved
Yama, niyama, asana, pranayama, pratyahara, dharana and dhyana are the seven accessories of yoga. Dhyana or the meditation itself is of seven kinds, as I already explained, and it is attended with seven kinds of transformations. With this I have given in a nutshell the essence of the teachings of yoga philosophy, psychology and its practice. This does not mean that the methods of meditation are completely exhausted by the yoga system of Patanjali. There are also other methods of meditation—for example the bhakti method. The devotees of God have their own ways of contemplating God. Their way is not necessarily this analytical, psychological and philosophical method of Patanjali. Their method is more of love, longing and even weeping for God. Only the saints who love God exclusively can tell us what love of God truly is. It is impossible to describe love of God, as we also cannot describe what God is. Even saints and sages who had this experience refuse to explain it, because it cannot be explained.
The love of God is a love that we are having for creation as a whole, because God is manifested in the world. These saints who loved God loved the world, and they made no distinction between the two. Their hearts went out to the Beloved, and we can imagine what it might mean for a heart to go for something beloved. Those who have lived in the world will know what it is for a heart to be moved, and what it means for a heart to go for something it deeply loves. It is not our senses going, not our personality going, and not our speech going—it is something else that goes. Our soul is moved. Nobody can say what it is actually, because we cannot know what happens when a soul is moved. We cease to be anymore when our soul is moved towards something.
When our personality in its manifestation as the sense organs, the mental faculty and so on is moved, we may be aware of what is happening. But when our soul is moved, we cannot know what is happening—just something happens, that is all. Love of God is a sudden, ultimate transformation in which the mind longs for God alone and does not want anything else. This cannot be explained with any amount of philosophical analysis. We can know it only to some extent by study of the lives of saints. Study the life of Christ, the life of St. Francis of Assisi, of St. Theresa, of Gauranga Mahaprabhu and of the great acharyas who founded the bhakti cults in India. Read the Srimad Bhagavata Purana and read about the love of the gopis for Lord Krishna. We will be wonderstruck as to how this level of love could exist. Is it possible? Can we conceive of such a thing? But that is love of God. The love of God has again certain stages of development. It does not suddenly drop from the skies. The bhakti scriptures describe elaborate processes of the development of love for God. These are very strange things and are especially unknown to people in the West. It is not that devotees of God did not live in the West—there were some—but they were more prominent in the Eastern countries, and especially in India.
For those who are interested in the study of this psychology of the intense love of God or devotion, I would suggest one or two books—the most prominent being the one written by a disciple of Gauranga Mahaprabhu, the great saint of Bengal, namely, Bhaktirasam Ratasindhu. It is a very beautiful book. Bhaktirasam Ratasindhu means 'the ocean of the essence of devotion'. I happened to come across an English translation of it recently, and it is a very beautifully written work in English. This book is published in its English translation by the 'Institute of Philosophy' in Vrindavan. We should also read the Srimad Bhagavata Purana. We should read it in the original, but of course those who don't read Sanskrit can read it in any good translation. We can have an idea through these books about the approach of the devotee to God. The third one is the Narada Bhakti Sutras. This is one book worth reading, and it is a very exhaustive work. The Narada Bhakti Sutras, the Srimad Bhagavata Purana, and this particular one, the Bhaktirasam Ratasindhu, are all to be recommended.
The devotee of God generally regards God not merely as an Absolute in the philosophical sense. It is very difficult to love God in the absoluteness of His being, though there is one stage of devotion which is compatible with the highest of philosophical knowledge. They call it 'parachute' or supreme devotion, where devotion becomes identical with knowledge. That is however something very difficult to understand. In ordinary language when we speak of devotion to God, we mean love of God as someone or something, and not everything or nothing. The devotee does not regard God here as everything, as one school of philosophy would say, or God as nothing, as another school says. He is something and is someone whom the devotee can approach with an expectation of response from Him. The God of the devotee is one who responds to the love of the devotee. If there were no response, we could not love, so God responds to the devotees' calls.
The Srimad Bhagavadgita is the 'mother' of all the texts of devotion, but it is a very elevated text, and it is difficult for a beginner to extract the essence out of it. I didn't suggest it as one of the texts of bhakti yoga, though it also is a very great aid in understanding the devotion to God. In one of the verses of the Srimad Bhagavadgita, God is said to take care of the devotee fully, and that the only responsibility of the devotee is to love God—he has no other responsibility. He does not have to study books or to go to school or do this and that. He has no responsibility, no function to perform, and no other yoga except for intense thinking, longing and loving of God. As I said, God is conceived by the devotees as someone who can respond to this affection. “Oh God, please come! I am dying of separation from you.” When such a cry comes from the devotee, God should be able to respond to that cry. That is the essence of devotion, and we can easily imagine what could be the concept of God in the mind of such a devotee who wants an immediate response. It might be like the child wanting a response from the parent, like a friend expecting a response from a friend, the servant expecting a response from the master, or the husband expecting a response from the wife, or she from him. The human expectation of a sympathetic response is sublimated into a divine emotion in love of God.
Symbols and Images in the Path of Devotion
The peculiarity of divine emotion is that human sentiments cannot be destroyed, but are rather sublimated and ennobled. This is why many people think that the path of devotion is easy and also very pleasant. It is simultaneously both easy and pleasant, because the human sentiments are not overcome as in the case of philosophical meditation. We are not asked to cast aside our human ways of thinking in the devotional path. We are a human being, and we think as a human being thinks. What is our usual attitude? We want sympathy and cannot live in a place where there is no sympathy and where people do not respond. The least that we would expect from the world is sympathy. If nobody would speak to us, we would feel like a fish out of water, and we would be unwilling to stay there. This is what the devotee expects from God and is similar to the response we expect from a human being. There are then different attitudes of devotion. These are what are called the sentiments of love in the Bhakti Shastras. We may love God as our master, as our friend, or as our parent, and there are some devotees who even regarded God as a child—something very strange for us, but that is also one of the ways of devotion. There were devotees who regarded God as a baby! I have seen one lady devotee here recently who used to hug an image of God every day and who wept before it. This image was no more just an image for her—it was a living being. As a matter of fact, for the devotee of God everything becomes a symbol of God. There are no such things as images or statues for the devotee. They are all living emblems of God’s presence.
We may wonder as to how an image can be God. There are some religious people with sceptical minds who can’t believe in image worship. They see it as idolatry and as something quite contrary to religion. All these ideas arise in the minds of people because they do not understand what religion is and how symbols can play an important role in the practice of religion. What is life but symbols? Everything that we do is symbolic, and it would be a kind of futile audacity of the mind to think that it has risen above images and symbols. Everything that we do is through images and symbols. What is a photograph? What is a currency note? Have they any value? The fact is that they have absolutely no value except as a piece of official paper—but yet how lovingly we fondle these scraps of paper! We know what a thousand dollar bill means to us, but it is really nothing if we go into the depths of it. Why is it then that it becomes so important that we must possess it? How affectionately we hug the photograph of a person whom we love. What is the harm in spitting at it? We could spit on any place on the ground, so why not also spit on the photograph? Yet we would find it repugnant to do that. This is pure image worship that we are doing in this case. Yet when it comes to God, we are very reserved and very strict and very scientific. If this scientific attitude applies to God, why shouldn’t it also be applicable to other things like the photograph or the currency note? Why do we insist on science and logic only when it is a question of God?
Everything is symbolic. Take for instance when we meet a friend with a gesture of salutation. We bring our hands together in a particular position to greet them. Suppose though we want to strike a person—we would assume another position of our hands altogether, even if we do not actually strike. Only the position of the hands is sufficient to show the intent—but it is a mere symbol. Symbols speak, and the language is louder than anything that we can bring forth with our mouths. Moreover, the psychology of symbol, which is inclusive of image worship, is very significant. Apart from the psychology, there is also a very scientific and philosophical meaning behind these symbolic gestures. For instance, if God is everywhere, why should He not also be in the image? Why do we say He is not there? That attitude means to say He is not everywhere.
The religion that accepts the omnipresence of God should accept His presence even in an image—or even in a spade for that matter, as one philosopher said. God can be worshipped even through a spade. Even that simple tool can act as a symbol, but only if our hearts can go to it. Therefore, scientifically and philosophically there is no problem in taking any article of creation as representative of God’s presence. Everything is full of God’s potency. This potency can manifest itself under any circumstances. Psychologically—apart from this scientific and philosophical import—it has a great significance, because we cannot think of God as He really is. The image is nothing but an image that we have chosen to which we can direct our affection and love. We want something which we can love. It may be a human being or it may be something inorganic—it makes no difference if our hearts will really go for it. The one required condition is that our hearts should be fully engaged in the devotion.
Our hearts should be full of love for that which we have chosen, and that which we have chosen is our image. Our country which we love is our image. A patriot practises image worship through reverence for the flag of his country. To come to the actual essence of it, all sentiments—whatever be their character or nature—are worship of symbols. Sometimes we cannot explain it rationally. We innocently respond, “Anyhow, I just like it, that is all I can say.” This word ‘anyhow’ we have used has no rationality behind it. These are all sentiments. These sentiments are symbols that we cherish in our hearts and idols which we worship in our minds. They may be psychological idols or physical idols, but what is the difference? The importance of this adoration of the image or the symbol is that we can concentrate the universal characteristics of God on a localised concept or form.
Who can think the universal presence of God? The mind is not made in that way. We cannot do it—we become giddy if we think of the omnipresence of God, so we choose an easier symbol. Whatever be the symbol, the condition is that our love for it should be equal to our love for God. In the analogy I used just now, when we love a currency note, we love purchasing power. We share and even love the value of the government which has produced the currency note. Likewise, when we keep a symbol like a legal document, it serves as a symbol of agreement. By valuing the document we symbolically say that we agree with the terms written there. What is an agreement? It could be a registered document in a court. But what is it? It is only a symbol, an image or an idol of a faith that has been sworn in the presence of people.
Overwhelming Love for God
I’m giving only a few examples of what an image or symbol is, but they may also refer to a stone image or a kind of article that we keep in a church or a temple. We cannot live without symbols, images and idols. Our lives would be essentially nullified if these symbols were to be wiped out. The emotional sentiment that is centred in the idol that is worshipped in the temple is one which regards it as divinity. This distinguishes images of God from ordinary images and idols of the world. Not merely this, apart from the fact that the religious image provides us a prop for centring our love or emotion, it can also stir energy into activity through the concentration of the mind. The mind can so stir the constituents of the image, that the image can speak. There have been instances mentioned where devotees with their overwhelming emotions moved images into action. Again to come to what we have studied already, reality is present everywhere, and it can be moved in anything. It is the subject as well as the object. That which moves us within can also move that which is without. God can be moved into action in any principle of creation because of His omnipresence, and the love of God acts as an agent or a means in stirring the forces of God that are present in an object. The extent to which this motion of God in the object can be affected depends upon the intensity of our love. We can move the hearts of people by our love, so why could we not move God’s heart? We can do it, and if God is moved the whole world will be moved.
The devotee has great faith in God. For his various purposes the devotee conceives God in various aspects. There are at least five devotional concepts of God. One is of God as a transcendent Creator. This is usually the concept of God in many of the religions, including Christianity and Islam. God is a transcendent Creator, and He is up in heaven. Though we may have been told that the kingdom of heaven is within us, it is difficult for us to believe that God is not above us. We always think God is above us as Supreme Father of the universe—Creator, Preserver and Destroyer—and to love Him is to love a universal All. Awe-inspiring is God. The Jewish religion is also of this character. The religion of the Old Testament is an example of the devotion of awe. God, who is a terror, a master and a father who will wield a rod if necessity arises—this is God’s transcendence worshipped in religion. In India we also have such religions. This is called aisvarya pradhana bhakti, or devotion where God’s supremacy, transcendence and power are taken as His primary characteristics, rather than something else. This is a very advanced stage of devotion, where we worship God perpetually as a universal power—transcendent, towering and master over everything. Our attitude towards Him in this case would be the same as an attitude towards a judge or a parent. We are afraid of Him, and we cannot look at Him without a sense of humility and fear.
Yet, devotion has varieties. God is not always worshipped as a manifestation of universal terror and fear. God is also seen as a manifestation whom I can approach, as I can approach an important person in the world. I can silently speak to this God, I can speak to Him in privacy, I can open my heart to Him, and I can weep and sob and tell Him I am dying without Him. This sort of God is the one the devotee seeks. When our hearts are torn by the woes and agonies of life, we open our hearts to God. It is the same as when we are harassed by someone—we may go to a court, or we may go to our superior for protection, or we may go to anyone whom we think is competent to help us in some manner or the other. When we are tormented from every corner of the world, we look to God when there is no other help. For this purpose, God is regarded as a benevolent manifestation rather than as a transcendent terror.
In India we have a peculiar trinity of God, conceived as Creator, Preserver and Destroyer—known in Sanskrit as Brahma, Vishnu and Siva. We have the trinity concept in the Christian religion also, but it is slightly different from the trinity of India. God is the Father, God is the Son and God is the Holy Ghost—this may be the trinity in Christianity, but these are not identical with the concept of trinity in India. There is a kind of trinity concept in every religion, because it is difficult to always imagine God as one single totality. God may become an object of affection in His manifestations as trinity or in any kind of manifestation, but a difficulty arises. We want God to come nearer, but even this God the Father or God the Son is very far away. One wants God very near as a flesh and blood incarnation. God as incarnation is easier to contemplate and feel affection for than God transcendent, Master or Creator. There are types of devotion which take primal objects as incarnations of God, because God speaks through these incarnations—like the sunlight peeping through a screen. The sunlight is everywhere in space, and yet it is easier to see when it peeps through a window in our room. We can concentrate our minds more on it when it is located in a particular spot in space. “God should come to my home. God should be adored by me as a person,” a devotee of this type may say.
There were therefore devotees who cried, “Let us become stones in Vrindavan. Let us become grass, let us be born as jackals in holy Vrindavan where Krishna trod the earth.” This is the attitude of devotees which differs from those who want to merge themselves in the Unknown. “What is the use of becoming sugar; we want to taste sugar!” a devotee would say. This is because their love is of such a nature. Love cannot brook its abolition even if the abolition leads to a philosophical union. These types of devotees have no dislike for philosophy, but they cannot brook the abolition of love. “If love is allowed for me, well then, you can keep your philosophy, but I cannot tolerate separation from my Beloved.” Love is supreme in devotion to God. Another aspect of this level of love for God is that one cannot exist for a moment without thinking God with the whole of one’s heart.
The Devotion that Can Summon God
I have an interesting story which is a little difficult to believe. There was a great devotee in Kerala who was a great devotee of Krishna. He was such a devotee of Krishna that he saw Krishna everywhere and would actually speak to Him. The members of his family could not understand what was happening to this man. He would speak of Krishna, glorify Krishna, worship Krishna, and talk of Krishna. There was no other thought. We cannot imagine the devotion of a man like this. One day he told his wife, “Tomorrow the Lord is coming to take me. I am going with Him tomorrow. Please prepare a grand dinner for the Lord.” The wife said, “This man is going crazy. How can the Lord come and eat a dinner?” The time was fixed—the next day at eleven o’clock. “He is coming to my house. The Lord is coming! A grand dinner should be prepared.” What could the poor wife do? She grumbled as she prepared it while murmuring, “What is happening to my husband?”
The dinner was prepared and the man was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Lord. He swept the house, sprinkled water on the road, decorated the gate with flowers, and lighted candlesticks. As the time was approaching, he called his wife and said, “The Lord is coming near. I can hear the sound of His conch. He is coming nearer and nearer. God is coming! Oh, I am hearing it—He is coming nearer and nearer. I am seeing Him, He has come; there He is!” The wife thought he was completely crazy. When a revered guest comes, we offer him water to wash his feet, as that is a custom in India. Hence, a special kind of vessel with a spout was brought which is used to wash the feet of guests. “Bring water, my Lord has come,” the man exclaimed, and immediately he prostrated flat with all his body on the ground. “The Lord has come. This is Your house, Lord,” and the devotee poured the water saying, “I am washing His Feet.”
The wife could see nothing. What is happening, she wondered? Her husband said, “Lord, please come. This is Your house. I have been waiting for You. Today my heart is filled with joy. It cannot contain itself,”‘ and he poured water onto the ground to wash the feet of the Lord. The man exclaimed, “‘Please, sit here,” just as any Indian host would tell a guest. “Please sit,” and the man placed an asana on the floor. “Oh, Lord, please come,” and a garland was brought and the Lord was garlanded. But nobody could see anything, and there seemed to be only an empty space where the devotee was looking. The man then did arati in worship of Sri Krishna and prostrated himself. “Bring dinner,” he ordered his wife, and he slowly started serving from the plate. “Do You want a little more, my Lord? Is it all right? Salt? Sweets? Less? More?” and after the lunch was over, he told his wife, “My dear, the Lord wants to call me back. I am going. Good-bye!” and he suddenly died then and there. Nobody knew what was happening—least of all the wife who was crying with grief. Nobody could understand what happened. Perhaps the man knew and God knew, but it is impossible even to humanly believe that such occurrences are possible. How could God come to a house? We can only imagine what pure devotion can accomplish. It is impossible for the human mind to understand what this level of devotion could be, but devotees testify to this possibility that God actually comes to them.
We have instances in the lives of saints in India where God came as a servant. In the case of one saint in Maharashtra, Lord Krishna came as a servant, washed the clothes and washed the vessels without identifying Himself. The psychology, the meaning and the beauty behind the path of bhakti is something very enigmatic. Rationality is far removed from this level of faith, and the intellect cannot touch it. The intellect is barred from approach in this realm of devotion to God. I mentioned these instances only to emphasise that God can be worshipped as a person, because the human manifestation can also become a vehicle of God’s force, knowledge and power.
We cannot understand the implications of the significance of bhakti through the study of books. We have to live with people who have lived this life. We have to observe their behaviour and see what it means to them, then we will realise that there are more things in heaven and earth than our philosophy can dream of. Philosophy is nothing when it is measured against God’s power. It is something more than our intellects can think. This is what the path of devotion imparts to us. It is a matter of the heart, so how could reason explain it? Devotion is supposed to culminate in the recognition of the immanence of God—where God is not a transcendent Father, but something very present here and now. That is a kind of universality that is recognised in God’s presence. While God can be a universal transcendence, He can also be a universal immanence. Devotees consider this to be the highest type of devotion.
God can be worshipped as an incarnation, as a trinity, as a human being and as an object of devotion in the form of an image or an idol. There is a set of worships among the devotees of India especially explained in a group of scriptures called the Agamas and Tantras. All these scriptures abound in elaborate descriptions of worship and devotion of God. The Agamas have described at least four stages of devotion. The lowest is worship of God in temples. We may take it also as worship of God in churches or a mosque—it makes no difference. They all have the same intent finally, which is worship of God in a concrete manifestation in a place of worship. The worship commences in the earlier stages with the availability of the accessories of worship, the necessity for the maintenance of the worship regimen and then the worship itself. We may sweep the temple, we may collect flowers for the temple, we may clean the temple, we may bring water for worship, and we may provide any kind of external assistance. This is supposed to be the outermost form of devotion to God. The internal form of worship is the higher type of devotion, and the Tantras describe this. The still higher stages of devotion involve the cessation of ritual in worship. There is no collection of flowers, no bathing or washing, no waving of arati, and no offering of prasad or sacraments. These are all not necessary in the third stage of devotion where pure contemplation on God is enough. That is the form of yoga where devotion merges into yogic meditation. This last stage is supposed to be knowledge of God and parabhakti (supreme devotion), where love and knowledge of God become one and the same. Here it is that Vedanta and philosophy become one with bhakti or devotion.